Ella - Book 2: In Love We Trust
by thai.khue
Summary: "You have more magic in your heart than any witch could have in their magic core," says Severus. "If I have to live without believing in the basic goodness of people, is life even worth living, Sev?," says Ella. This is the sequel to Ella - Book 1: The Ethnographer.
1. Chapter 1 - Brussels District of Magic

**Author's note**

_Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoy the story. Your reviews are welcomed and cherished, always ;)_

CHAPTER 1

**THE BRUSSELS DISTRICT OF MAGIC**

Ella lets out a loud sigh as she tosses herself onto the bed.

Throwing his shirt to the laundry basket, Severus asks without looking at her:

"Is that sigh related to Mr Potter?"

"Yes," replies Ella, her eyes absently sticking to the ceiling.

Harry has been giving her the cold shoulder since he came home after two weeks with his godfather.

She understands his discomfort. Suddenly having Draco under the same proof, though only for about ten days, was almost the worst welcome-home gift he could ever have received. That all the adults were striking their hair to all directions taking care of Draco only added insult to injury.

After Draco's matters settled, she has been trying her best to make up for it. She engaged in small talks with him whenever possible. It didn't work. She made him his favourite foods. Didn't work either. Then she gave him sweets, as the last resort. Still didn't work.

In fact just yesterday he was so cross that he shot her a pretty disrespectful glare, which earned him another glare from his dad. After that she had to convince Severus that it wouldn't have done anyone any good if he had gone all angry and scolded or punished the boy. Hence Harry was let off with a calm and gentle talk in her absence.

Severus has tried to get him to talk about the issue during their bedtime talks, but unsuccessfully thus far.

"What should I do?," Ella massages her temples.

"I told you, just leave it," says Severus. "He will get over it sooner or later."

"It will take too long."

"Then go be straightforward and talk to him about it already now."

She glances away from the ceiling, at Severus. He shrugs:

"He won't hate you for it. He's just sulking."

With that he leaves the room. Ella rises to follow him. As he turns right into the bathroom, she turns left.

Harry's door is standing ajar, waiting for his dad's bedtime visit. Taking a deep breath, she knocks and pushes the door open slightly wider, allowing herself to peek in. She works up the best smile she is capable of:

"I'm dropping by to say good night. May I come in?"

The boy pauses, dumbstruck and keeps blinking at her without a word. She decides to be thick-skinned and remain there until it works.

"Can I come in?," she repeats.

"Well… yes," Harry swallows.

Beaming, she enters.

She has never set foot in his room before. It is as old and raw as the rest of the house yet still hosts a cosy atmosphere. The walls are covered in Quidditch posters. On the bedside table sit two picture frames, one showing Severus hugging an adorable younger Harry in his arm and the other a couple dancing amidst falling autumn leaves. Ella instantly recognises them. Their images appear everywhere in the materials she has read about The Boy Who Lived.

She settles on the beside chair, facing Harry. He is already in his nightwear, a book opening on his lap. Propping her chin in her hand, she gives him a soft, gentle gaze.

"You are cross with me, aren't you?," she asks with a note of sadness in her tone. "Why is it? Did I do something that bothered you?"

With a brief pause, the boy drops his eyes and murmurs:

"No, there's nothing."

"Is it because of Draco?"

He raises his eyes to meet hers but remains quiet.

"I know you didn't like it," she sighs, "and being told you could just ignore him didn't really help much either. I want you to know though that had we had the choice, we wouldn't have forced you into such an unpleasant situation."

She pauses and waits, but no reaction except his fingers starting to play with the blanket.

"It was a difficult situation for us too," she continues. "We really didn't have any other option if we wanted to help him. And I know you might not get why we would even try to help him, but we are in a very different position to yours, Harry. We are adults and we are his former teachers. We couldn't let his life go astray under our watch if we could help it. You don't have to agree with us but don't punish me for it, will you?"

His eyes snap up and open wide:

"What do you mean?"

"You have been giving me the cold shoulder. It's painful. I had been longing for spending a nice summer with you."

Giggling inwardly, she works up a sulky look on her face. Harry loses it. He starts giggling, and in no time, laughing.

"There, much better," she lets out a soft laugh herself and playfully taps his cheek with her hand. "Welcome back, happy Harry."

His laugh trails off into a grin. Ella gives him a mysterious look:

"On a side note, there is some news I believe might possibly delight you."

She pauses and lets it hang in the air.

"What is it?," he pounds his fingers on the book impatiently.

"I'm going to Belgium for a conference next week. Severus and I thought we could take the chance to go together and spend about a week there."

"Really?!," he beams from one ear to another. "Yay!"

"Plan approved then?," she raises an eyebrow with a smirk.

"What are we going to do there?," he bends forward and props his chin on his fists.

"I'll have to spend the first two days on the conference. Severus and you can roam the area meanwhile. After that we can decide what to do next."

"What's the place like? Is it like Diagonal Alley?"

"You'll see," Ella winks. "I guess you should sleep now," she eyes the clock, which indicates ten in the evening.

"When are we going there?"

"Sunday evening, so I can show you around a bit before I go to the conference on Monday. Can I tuck you in?"

She raises her hand and blinks jokingly. Harry giggles while sliding into his blanket:

"Yes."

After tucking him in, she rises:

"Sweet dreams, dear. See you tomorrow."

"Ella?"

"Hmm?"

Half of his face under the blanket, he asks importantly:

"When will you and Severus get married?"

Caught off guard, she flushes to the top of her ears.

"You should ask him," she grins.

"I asked him and he told me to ask you."

She chuckles:

"It's a joke. We don't know yet, Harry. We have only been together for a few months, it's too soon to talk about that now. But I will remember to inform you when we do."

"How long will it take?"

"You are really interested in it, huh?"

The boy lazily adjusts himself in the bed:

"I like it when you live with us."

An invisible arrow hits her heart and fills the rest of her with warmth and joy.

"Isn't it what I'm already doing?," she smiles.

"I mean permanently."

That stretches her smile to its full capacity.

o0o

"Is it here?," asks Severus, looking around the place they have just arrived at.

"I believe it is."

Ella double checks the invitation letter in her hand. The parchment bears the address she is well familiar with:

_Policies and Social Justice Journal International Headquarters_

_Rue d'Aube 32_

_L'Arrondissement de Magique_

_Boulevard des Légendes 45 _

_Brussels_

_Belgium_

The street has changed quite a lot since her last visit several years ago, but the antique shop at Number 45 and the hospital at Number 46 Boulevard des Légendes are still standing where they were.

"Come," she says and strides across the street, followed by Harry and Severus.

Once they are at the wall between the antique shop and the hospital, she turns around, casually leans her back against the wall and places her hand on the surface. She glances over her shoulder to register the effect.

Slowly and smoothly, the wall splits itself in half, then extends, pushing the antique shop and the hospital away from each other, revealing an open entrance. In no time, they find themselves at one end of another boulevard, lined with new and modern skyscrapers and crowded with people.

"Welcome to the Brussels District of Magic," Ella grins and swirls around, dragging the suitcase behind her.

Harry is already gasping in excitement. Severus' eyes dart from building to building with a curious frown on his forehead:

"This place looks very muggle."

"It does," says Ella. "I guess that's what comes out when you have wizards and witches from all over the world stuffed in one urban district. Our hotel is here."

Stargaze Hotel, Number 31 Voie de la Lune, is a decent hotel located in a peaceful corner but only a short walk from the district's centre.

"Your suite is on the third floor, Madam," the witch at the reception hands back to Ella her identity card. "You can go by Floo from here," she points at the fireplace in the reception hall.

"I'm sorry, Madam, but I can't use the Floo. I'm a muggle."

"Ah," says the witch, "in that case the lift is over there."

"Thank you, Madam."

Ella has never lodged anywhere in this district outside the _Policies and Social Justice Journal_'s headquarters before. This time she gives up her place in their guesthouse and rents a family suite for Severus, Harry and herself instead. The suite provides a good view over the district's main avenue, which is basically a giant mixture of lights, people and buildings. Harry is wow-ing at it nevertheless.

"You should put your luggage in the wardrobe, Harry," says Ella. "What would you like for dinner?"

"I don't know. Do they have specialties here?," he answers without peeling his eyes off the window.

"Brussels sprouts?"

"Ew!"

Ella and Severus tremble with laughter. She leans against the desk and picks up the district map:

"Tristan and I used to eat at Feu et Glace, just down this street. They offered quite a nice buffet. Maybe we can start there to get an idea of Belgian cuisine and decide on what to eat the following days. I hope the restaurant is still there. Merlin, I have not been here for so long."

"When will Tristan come?"

"Tomorrow morning straight to the conference room."

"But he will stay overnight tomorrow, won't he?"

"Yes."

"Let's ask him to join us for dinner."

"Certainly. I will ask him tomorrow. Harry?"

"Yes?," the boy answers absently from the other side of the room division.

"Let's go."

"Can we eat later?"

"I have to sleep early tonight because I have work tomorrow morning."

"I see…"

With a little disappointment but no protest, he appears with his signature untidy mop of hair.

"Is it slightly possible that you tidy your hair a little?," Ella asks.

"I tried. Didn't work," he shrugs.

"Come over hear," she gestures.

Harry comes standing in front of her, lowering his head. Ella frowns. She doesn't even know where to start. At last, she lands the hairbrush at a random spot and swirls it around, trying to find the natural line. Indeed, it didn't work.

"Okay," she sighs, "do it yourself. I surrender."

Giggling, he strikes his hair with his fingers and somehow it magically becomes a little less untidy. Or so she believes.

Feu et Glace is, thankfully, still where it was and so is the buffet. The restaurant is full of guests with all kinds of appearance: wizarding clothing ranging from North America to the Pacific Islands, from Greenland to South Africa, and muggle clothing from expert camouflage/muggleborn level to I-have-no-idea-what-I-am-wearing level.

"How am I supposed to…?," Harry trails off, giving Ella a shrug.

She chuckles:

"Follow me and do as I do."

She whispers explanations about buffet etiquette to Harry while taking food for him and herself. Severus stays silent and helps himself, occasionally frowning at strange dishes.

The restaurant gets more and more crowded into the evening. By the time they serve themselves the second round, another family have arrived and occupied the table only a feet from theirs.

The family have two parents and two beautiful daughters, all speaking French. For some reason, the little girl keeps eyeing Harry curiously. Also for some reason, both Severus and Harry keep stealing looks at the mother and the older girl. Taking a quick glance, Ella figures it out. She chuckles inwardly.

"Excuse me," says the little girl with heavy French accent, "are you from Britain?"

Dumbstruck for a moment, Harry shyly replies:

"Um… yes?"

"I learn English a little," the girl beams and fiddles in her seat.

The mother says something to her in French, then turn to Harry:

"I'm sorry if she bothers you. She is just eager to practice her English."

His eyes dreamy and his jaw hanging loose, he replies:

"It's fine, Madam."

Failing to refrain herself, the little girl sneaks some more lines with Harry and he is more than happy to chat with her. Meanwhile, Severus is freezing where he is, his eyes also dreamy and his hanging jaw tactfully hidden behind the wine glass.

Ella manages to suppress her chuckles until they are back in their hotel. Once Harry disappears into the bathroom, she loses it and bursts into laughter.

"What is it?," asks Severus, both confused and annoyed.

"Feeling strange, are you?," she lets out between her laughs. "Have a weakness for blonde women huh?"

"What do you mean?," he hisses.

"I'm joking," Ella sits up straight. "It's normal what you felt. The woman and her daughters were part Veela."

"Part Veela?," he blinks. "How do you know?"

"I'm an ethnographer, Sev. It's basic observational skill. But you looked absolutely hilarious. Sorry I can't stop laughing," she throws herself back to the bed and rolls into another laugh.

"Am I supposed to say sorry?," he looks her over his shoulder with a blank face.

"No," she waves him off. "But I don't mind if you do."

More laughter endures in the family suite on the third floor of Stargaze Hotel, Number 31 Voie de la Lune in the Brussels District of Magic.


	2. Chapter 2 - A journey delayed

**_Author's note_**

_Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoy the story. Your reviews are welcomed and cherished, always ;)_

CHAPTER 2

**A JOURNEY DELAYED**

"You look so good in this."

Ella glances at Severus, who is sitting on the edge of the bed and watching her doing her hair.

"And no, it doesn't mean you don't look good in muggle clothes," he adds.

"I spent the most part of my career rolling and wading in dust and mud on field trips," says Ella, titling her head back and forth in front of the mirror. "These events are the chance to clean up and be better groomed at least every now and then."

"You could have done this at Hogwarts too."

"I taught Muggle Studies. I kept my muggle appearance on display for a purpose."

Putting down the hairbrush, she picks up the headscarf, puts in on, then takes it off.

"Hmm. No, I'm not wearing this."

"Why? It's beautiful on your hair."

Glancing at him again, she smiles and puts the headscarf back on.

Then she rises and double checks herself in the mirror. A sleeveless white silk robe runs from her shoulders down to her ankles, fastened at the waist with an ocean blue braid belt. A blue cloak is attached to the robe with wooden buttons. A silk blue and white headscarf carelessly wraps up one side of her head, half covering, half revealing her shiny blonde hair. On her belt hung a silver knife, the wooden handle and blade cover of which bear the words _Ella Arietta Virtanen_.

"You look like a goddess," Severus whispers, his jaw dropped, his eyes roaming her.

"I'm not disagreeing," Ella grins.

"What is the knife for?"

"This is the Knife of Willpower. Finnish wizard-born muggles traditionally carry it as a symbol of pride in equivalence to the wand of wizards and witches."

"Is it also of practical use?"

"I don't carry it around all the time. Muggle multifunctional knives are much lighter and do the job much better. But yes if you want to peel an apple, it's available to serve."

Chuckling, Severus puts on his own cloak and holds her hand to walk her out of the room.

Harry got up much earlier and has been in the hotel's reception hall chatting with the two French girls they met at the Feu et Glace restaurant. Their family happen to be also staying in this hotel. Both girls attend the Beauxbatons Academy of Magic in France and are extremely excited about the fact that they are going to spend most of this school year in Hogwarts as their school attend the Triwizard Tournament. Needless to say, Harry is not any less excited. He speaks no French and the girls speak broken English, but their shared excitement wins over all barriers.

After picking up Harry from the reception hall, Severus and Ella walk with him down the street and turn into the main avenue.

"At the end of this avenue is the International Union of Magic complex," says Ella. "This district is mainly occupied by the headquarters of international organisations. It was originally meant to be an office area but since so many people worked here, services popped up to cater to their needs and eventually it has grown into a tourist area too, as what we are seeing."

"This is great," says Harry. "Dad has never brought me along on his work trips."

"Perhaps because I went searching for rare herbs and magical ingredients in dangerous unknown corners of the nature and not an urban district in a capital centre?," Severus shoots him a cold glance.

"I could have helped you collecting them," Harry sulks.

"Oh thank you Mr Potter. It's a difficult task but with your help it would certainly be impossible."

Soon they arrive at Number 32 Rue d'Aube. The _Policies and Social Justice _Journal's complex has three buildings circling a courtyard. Today the iron gate is widely open to welcome its column writers and guests of honour from all around the world.

"I will be done here at four in the afternoon," says Ella. "So have a good time roaming the district. See you here by then."

"What if I come to pick you up just slightly late?," Severus smirks.

"I will cry," she answers with a straight face and gives them goodbye hugs.

Then she turns on her heels and join the colourful stream of people entering the main building, the majority of which flock to the Conference Hall. Standing at the door, she eyes the familiar corner and just as expected, she registers the wavy brown hair that has been in that same seat every single year for as long as she can remember. Approaching him, she smiles at the sight of his briefcase occupying the seat next to his.

"This is for me, I assume?"

Tristan glances up and with a bright smile, he puts his briefcase away under his chair. Ella settles on his side.

"How are things?," he asks.

"Good. How about you?"

"Normal," he shrugs.

"Have you visited Master recently?"

"No. Have been busy."

"I see. I'm surprised they've invited him."

Propping his chin on his fist, Tristan says softly:

"That is because you didn't know he has started to gain traction on the international stage. He seems determined to bring the muggle and wizarding worlds back to peaceful co-existence. It's muggle optimism really, I don't know any wizards or witches who hold the same level of ambition with regards to the matter."

"And what do you think?"

"Well," he shrugs. "I hope that day will come before we die."

The hall's lights fall dim and direct their focus to the stage. A host appears to go through the opening formalities and introduce the keynote speaker. Both Ella and Tristan right themselves in their seats.

The keynote speaker, a small man in an East Asian style brown robe, rises from the row of honour seats and walks up the stage. His steps are so slow and leisured that by the time he arrives at the podium, the entire hall have been sent into silence, bracing for the moment he articulates his first word.

The day passes quickly. By four o'clock, Ella has run low on energy, which is always the case when she has to sit in a crowd for several hours. However, her tiredness disappears the moment she sees Harry beaming from one ear to another and showing her the postcards he has bought to send his friends. He has also bought a box of Belgian chocolate assortments to share with his new friends, the two French girls, named Fleur and Gabrielle.

"He is becoming like you," Severus whispers in Ella's ear while they walk back to their hotel. She giggles.

Harry meets the girls again in the reception hall and they all immediately get down to the chocolate. Ella sighs inwardly with relief – it means Severus and she will have a little more time to recharge before heading to dinner.

"What's the theme of the conference?," Severus asks while lying on the bed waiting for Ella to change her clothes.

"The agenda is next to your hand."

Lazily picking it up, he raises it high in the air at his eye level.

"Eurocentrism in International Policies?"

"Yeah," Ella answers absently.

"Hmm… The keynote speaker has an interesting name."

"It's a religious name. He's a religious leader who happens to be a peace activist at the same time."

"Religious leader?"

"Yes and before you ask, he's a muggle. A muggleborn muggle."

Ella drops herself on the bed and crawls into Severus' arm, easing into the familiar embrace. One arm wrapped around her back, he keeps his other arm in the air holding the conference agenda at his eye level.

"Care to elaborate?"

"No," she moans, her eyes comfortably closed. "Not now. I'm lazy. But to put it shortly, he is exempted from the Statue of Secrecy for a special reason, which I will tell you about when I'm less lazy."

"Hmm… interesting."

"Yes," Ella yawns.

"Is Tristan coming for dinner?"

"Yes."

"Where shall we eat?"

"Mmmmmmm," Ella groans, "can you just pick up the list over there and decide? I'm too tired I don't even have energy to think of that."

"All right, love. Sleep."

He must have summoned the brochure with his wand because his body remains still on the mattress being Ella's pillow as she falls into a short nap.

Two hours later, they end up at La Maison de Lumière, a fine restaurant near the Unity Square in the centre of the district. Severus claims that he has tossed his wand and picked what the tip pointed at. It turns out good nevertheless.

"Are you going to visit Draco this weekend?," Ella asks when they have done with the main course and are getting to the dessert.

"Yes, of course," Tristan gives her a questioning look.

Eyeing Severus, Ella sighs:

"We still have not figured out how to proceed after he is out."

Propping his chin on his chest, Severus drops his eyes and sighs in agreement.

"I was about to inform you," Tristan puts down his cutleries, wipes his mouth and sits up tall. "I have discussed it with Draco. This weekend I'm going to sign and submit my application for his guardianship."

"Really?," both Severus and Ella's eyes open wide.

"Yes," Tristan says importantly. "I will bring him to the States. I will either send him to a day school or hire a few tutors to teach him at home, depending on his preference, which he will decide upon later. But yeah… basically, he will live with me until he comes of age and I will make sure he gets his education… Also, going far away might make it easier for him to detach from his past."

"But how about your plan?," asks Ella. "I thought you were going to carry it out very soon?"

"Well," he shrugs, shifting his fringes backwards, "it'll have to wait another four years then. It can wait."

"What plan? If I may ask," Severus squints.

"I have a spiritual journey I wish to commit to," answers Tristan. "I have been delaying it because my family wouldn't let me off the heirship. They finally did last Christmas, thankfully, so I was about to wrap up the rest of my life and depart on it… then this happened."

"Are you sure, Tristan?," asks Ella. "It's…," she trails off and shakes her head.

"It's what?"

"I don't know. It's a lot of sacrifice for you."

Righting himself in his seat, he grins:

"Not if you don't count it as 'sacrifice'. Look, does it make sense if now I just dropped everything and moved on with my plan, retreating to a deserted corner and chanting everyday about compassion and service to all beings after deliberately ignoring a child who needed help and it was the help I was able to provide?"

Still blinking at him in disbelief, Ella continues:

"So you are really delaying it another four years to take care of Draco? Merlin, this is just…"

"Well," he shrugs again, "if he were like one year old now then it might be too much, but four years is totally possible. I will see him into adulthood properly and then come back to my plan."

Shaking her head, Ella raises her glass:

"I don't know what to say. Best wishes for Draco."

The two men quietly respond to her cheers.

Harry muses in silence well until bedtime. Severus and Ella decide to ignore it to see where it goes, if it does go anywhere. Tucking him in bed, Ella asks with a gentle smile:

"Your birthday is coming soon. Have you seen anything interesting here? If you find something you like, we can get it as an early gift for you."

That turns his face on like a beam of fireworks. He shifts his eyes back and forth searching his memory. Ella chuckles:

"You don't have to decide now. We still have the rest of the week to roam this place."

"Yeah," he giggles under the blanket.

"Good night, my little sir," she rises and turns of his bedside lamp.

"Good night," he yawns, his eyes instantly falling closed.

A short while later, secured in Severus' arm, she murmurs in his ear:

"I really hope Draco will turn out fine."

"I strongly believe he will turn out well," he whispers.


	3. Chapter 3 - I love him too

_**Author's note**_

_Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoy the story. Your reviews are welcomed and cherished, always ;)_

CHAPTER 3

**I LOVE HIM TOO**

"Interesting," Ella squints at the device on display at the end of the dictionary shelf. "This is just half the size of what I've usually seen. And it uses wireless connections."

"Portable automatic translation system?," Severus reads the label aloud.

"Yes," Ella says and looks the shopkeeper over her shoulder, "may I have a look at this, please?"

They are in the bookstore La Lame Intelligente. Severus has picked for himself a professional brewing recipes recording kit, and Harry an interactive Quidditch practice scheduling book. Ella follows the shopkeeper to the technical station to try out the translation system.

"So the price depends on how many languages I want it to cover?," she asks.

"Yes, Miss," answers the shopkeeper. "And from the fifth language onwards it's half price."

"I see. May I test it?"

"Certainly, Miss. What language would you like to translate?"

Ella puts on one of the blue headsets in the kit:

"English to Finnish. He will speak in English," she gestures at Severus.

The shopkeeper gives Severus another headset, coloured red. He puts it on and eyes Ella.

"Say something you'd say in class," she says. "Preferably something specialised and difficult."

"Uh huh," Severus nods and shifts his eyes back and forth, thinking. "I'll teach you to bewitch the minds and ensnare the senses?"

Ella listens attentively. The translation comes through only a second behind the original speech; the sound quality is good; the wording is well standardised. She is pleased.

"That's more poetry than potions, I believe," she says, "but good enough. Now let's try Finnish to English."

She switches her headset with Severus'. Tapping her chin with a finger, she says in Finnish:

"Contrary to popular belief, the witch hunt was far from a global phenomenon, at least in terms of motives, the underlying theories and the scope of the campaigns."

"It's quite a neat translation," says Severus. "And it's fast."

"Great," Ella beams. "I'll take this."

"So what languages would you like to install, Miss, besides Finnish and English?," asks the shopkeeper.

"French," says Ella. "and…"

Pausing briefly, she looks sideways at Severus:

"What language do the Durmstrang students speak?"

"As far as we are informed, they speak English," he shrugs.

"I mean their mother tongue. Or the school's language of instruction."

"That I have no idea."

"Okay," Ella taps her chin again. "Is it possible to order more languages by owl post later?"

"It is possible, Miss," answers the shopkeeper, "and they will be available immediately."

"How long does it take to post the order to Scotland?"

"That'd be within a week, Miss."

"Perfect. Then I'd like English, French and Finnish for now. I'll most likely need to order more later but I'll have to see which one."

While the shopkeeper is packing the translation system, Severus eyes Ella:

"May I ask what it is for?"

"For the coming school year, obviously. We're going to have students from France and we don't even know where else. Translations are going to be needed."

"They do speak English."

"I suppose, but probably few of them would be fluent enough to participate in classes."

"And that's why you are spending two hundred and fifty galleons from personal fund on a translation system?"

Propping her cheek in one hand and leaning against the cashier desk, she blinks sideways at him:

"It's portable. And wireless. And look how small and well designed the headsets are. Not only is it useful but it also looks fancy, don't you think?"

"Next time you say you're resigning, I won't believe you," he smirks.

Leaving the bookstore, they continue walking down the crowded street. The Brussels District of Magic hosts a totally different atmosphere at weekend, when all the offices are closed and the serious and boring looking office workers are replaced by more cheerful, curious and colourful tourists.

"So what's the name of that store again?," asks Ella.

"Mal et Malédiction," answers Harry.

"Mal et Malédiction… I see. Hmm, your pronunciation sounds quite good for someone who doesn't actually speak French, I have to say."

The boy turns his head to show Ella his grin, which runs from one ear to another.

"Is it here?"

"Yes, at the end of this road."

They have arrived in a small, very small road with dark and mysterious looking shops. A shiver runs up and down Ella's spine.

"Are you sure it's just a gaming set, the thing you want?," she asks, holding her breath.

Harry looks her over his shoulder:

"It says 'gaming set' on the box."

"Okay then," Ella sighs. Quietly, Severus picks up her hand and holds it in his.

Taking a deep inhale, Ella reminds herself that this district is totally safe. Things can hardly go wrong around the several headquarters of global scale organisations, supervised and protected by uncountable seen and unseen security forces. Yes, forces, in plural. Hence if a road looks dark and evil, it's just the way it looks.

Mal et Malédiction turns out to be just a joke shop, much similar to the one in Hogsmeade. Harry makes a beeline into the Educational Games section. The section label makes Ella smile.

The birthday present he wishes for is a curse breaking gaming set, designed for schooled wizards and witches aged fourteen and up. The challenges posed in the games are indefinite and the players have the possibility to go all creative once they have mastered the principles. And it costs one hundred and ninety-nine galleon.

"It's too expensive!," Severus whispers worriedly in her ear.

"Not if it's of good quality," she whispers back and turns to the shopkeeper, "I would like to see inside this gaming set, please."

The shopkeeper puts on leather gloves before unboxing the sample set.

"May I borrow a pair of gloves for myself, please? And also a magnifying glass."

Her professional mode turned on, she carefully studies the items in the fine leather bound box. They are indeed made of very good materials and beautifully finished to the small details. Most importantly, the miniature cursed objects are perfectly crafted, bearing little differences to the actual artefacts she has encountered. And it can be played using either the play wand included or a real wand, making it suitable for underaged wizards and witches both at school and at home.

"They are certainly high quality goods, Miss. They are subjected to the same standards as the study aids of pre-service curse breakers."

"Do you have such study aids here?," asks Ella.

"We don't, Miss, but you'd need a trainee license to buy such items from specialised shops."

"I see," Ella puts down the glass and takes off the gloves. "This set comes with guarantee, I assume?"

"Yes, Miss, it's five years of guarantee."

"Good enough," she smiles. "I'll take it. And do you accept cheques?"

"Wicked!," Harry cheers softly. "Thank you!"

Ella chuckles and glances down at him:

"This means you are going to do very well in Defence Against the Dark Arts this year. Very, very well."

"Yay!," the boy ignores her and receives the package from the shopkeeper, almost bouncing.

That evening, when they are back at home after a week in Brussels, Severus doesn't wrap Ella up and falls asleep instantly like he usually does. Instead, he cups her cheek in one hand, cuddles it with his long, rough fingers and looks her in the eyes, the way he looked when he first said he loved her.

"What's up?," she asks.

"Am I unknowingly in love with a millionaire or am I just the luckiest man in the world who's found a woman who loves his son as her own?," he whispers slowly, word by word.

"I wish I were a millionaire," Ella giggles, "but no, I'm just someone who loves your son as her own, because who on earth would not? He's adorable."

Smiling, he pulls her into his arms and holds her tightly:

"Stay here, Ella. Stay with me. Stay in my life. Don't go anywhere."

o0o

"I'd get you a gift, but I didn't know what you want, so please take this and spend it on something you like."

Ella picks up Draco's hand and places a small coin bag in it. "Take care, and remember to write us often, will you? Let us know how you are doing."

Freezing for a few seconds, the boy slowly raises his eyes to meet hers. He is on the edge of breaking into tears. And so is she.

She opens her arms. Draco awkwardly walks himself into the hug. His skinny form trembles in her embrace. She gently taps on his back:

"You'll be well. Be strong, be happy. And remember to write."

Released from the hug, Draco drops his head and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand. Tristan quietly picks up his backpack.

"We should go," he smiles sadly. "Thank you very much for the lunch. We'll see you soon."

"Goodbye, Professor," Draco murmurs, his head inclined towards Ella. "Goodbye, Severus."

"Goodbye, Draco, and by all means please never run homeless again. I believe I need not remind you how many adults are willing to be there for you no matter what. And I mean _no matter what_."

"Yes, sir," the boy nods.

Suddenly, his gaze pauses somewhere behind Ella's back. Before she has time to look over her shoulder, a soft voice comes from the living room's door:

"Goodbye. And good luck."

It's Harry. What a nice surprise, she smiles inwardly.

"Thank you," replies Draco without displaying the slightest emotion.

As Tristan and his new ward disappear from the room, living behind some blurred traces of memory, Ella sighs:

"I hope all will be well."

"It will," says Severus. "Harry? Are you ready?"

"Yes."

Ella exits to the hallway and finds Harry there, his coat on, his shoes on, looking pretty neat except for his hair. It might be true or it might be an illusion but she has the feeling he looks quite a bit different from yesterday, now that he is fourteen.

They apparate to Godric's Hollow. This is the strangest way ever a fourteen year old wants to spend his birthday. No party, no friends, no messing around. He simply wants to pay a visit to his parents' graves, at least once a year, on his birthday.

It's strange, and it's sad.

But it's important too, now that for the first time Ella is here, taking part in this family tradition, although this is not the first time she is in Godric's Hollow.

She places her wreath in front of the graves and rises. Harry, however, remains kneeling after placing his wreath, relaxed and casual. After a long silence, he whispers, his words dancing in the graveyard's wind:

"Mum, Dad, this is Ella. She's with us now. This day two years ago, she was stranded in front of our door. But she has come to Hogwarts to teach and now she's with dad and me. She said she admires your courage."

Stricken by a mix of unnamable feelings, she quietly steps forward and kneels down on his side. Smiling at the gravestones, she wraps her arm around his back:

"He's right, I do. And I love him too."


	4. Chapter 4 - A mother in search

**_Author's note_**

_Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoy the story. Your reviews are welcomed and cherished, always ;)_

CHAPTER 4

**A MOTHER IN SEARCH**

Ella squints at what she sees through the spyhole.

She knows the woman. Well, not really, but she has seen her before. And she believes she knows who this woman is.

Shifting her eyes to one side, Ella weights her options. If the woman is indeed who she believes her to be, it's quite unlikely that they will have a friendly encounter, no matter what has brought her here in the first place. That being said, it doesn't really take a genius to have a vague idea as to what it is that has brought her here.

She decides to ignore it and retreats to the living room. However, just as she turns on her heels, the woman knocks again, this time with less patience. That pulls her back to the spyhole against her will.

Under the layer of fine fabric artfully tailored into a fine robe is a blonde woman in her middle age, her face skinny, her eyes surrounded by large rounds of dark shades. Her short, nervous breaths can be clearly heard on the other side of the door.

She knocks, waits, and knocks again. It doesn't look like she'll be going away any time soon.

Ella strides into the kitchen. This morning Severus borrowed her silver knife to entertain himself by studying it and then left it on the dining table before he went out. Tucking it in her trousers' pocket, at a convenient drawing angle, she strides back to the door.

The woman still has not given up.

Carefully fixing herself at the doorway, placing one leg across the frame, ready to shut it in an instant should anything go wrong, she slightly swings the door ajar, just enough to reveal half of her face.

"How can I help you, Madam?"

The woman frowns at what she sees. After a brief pause, she says:

"I wish to see Severus."

The door opens slightly wider.

"Severus is out at the moment," says Ella. "But I can pass your words to him when he's back."

"When will he be back?"

"Well," Ella shrugs, "he said in half an hour but it's not certain."

"I can wait for him."

One half of Ella only wants to shut the door and leave her there waiting as she wishes, but the other half protests, and it wins. Tucking the silver knife more secured in her pocket, she swings the door properly open.

"Please come in, Madam," she gestures to the woman.

The moment her face is completely revealed, the woman stares at her dumbstruck. The next moment, the stare turns into a nasty glare.

Ella patiently waits for the long look attack to cease. At last, the woman walks in, not without eyeing her cautiously.

"Please take a seat, Madam. I'll make you some tea."

Leaving for the kitchen, Ella constantly looks back over her shoulder, her right hand rests firmly on the knife's handle. She proceeds to make the tea, keeping her face to the door's direction the whole time.

"Please have some tea, Madam. Severus should be home soon if nothing unexpected happens."

"You are living here?"

Ella pauses for a second, blinking at the guest. Then she puts an elbow on the chair's armrest and props her cheek on her fist:

"Yes. I'm staying here with him for the summer."

Without the slightest concern for politeness, her eyes roam Ella vigorously. And for some reason, Ella has forgot about her knife.

"Is there anything I can help you with while we are waiting for him?," she softly smiles.

"Is Draco here?," the woman hisses between her teeth.

"Draco? Are you referring to Mr Draco Malfoy who was a student in Severus' House?"

"Yes," the woman almost leaps out of her chair, "is he here?!"

"Please calm down, Madam," Ella lazily glances up at her. "Please sit down. First of all, may I ask who you are and why you are asking of Mr Malfoy?"

The woman darts her eyes at Ella dangerously. She casually takes a sip of tea:

"If we are going to talk, at least I should know who I am talking to."

"I'm his mother," the woman barks under her breath.

"Mrs Malfoy?"

"Yes. Is he here?!

"He used to be, but he's no longer here."

"Where is he?!," the woman springs to her feet and advances on Ella.

"Please sit down, Mrs Malfoy."

"TELL ME! WHERE IS HE? WHERE IS DRACO?"

Ella's hand jumps back to her knife, but the woman has not drawn her wand. She is just acting as if she wanted to grab Ella by her shirt.

"Mrs Malfoy," Ella shoots her a stern look in the eyes, "are we still having a civil conversation or are we going to fight now?"

"Where is Draco?!," she cries, totally ignoring everything else in the world.

"Calm down and I'll tell you."

Gasping with tears rolling down her cheeks, the woman retreats and throws herself back to her chair.

"First," says Ella, "let me assure you he is in good hands, safe and taken care of. However, I can't tell you his whereabouts on my own accord. You have given up your custody over him and now he has a new guardian. I must obtain his guardian's permission if I am to tell you more details about his current life. Because in the legal sense, you are no longer his mother."

That brings forth a loud, twisted sound, a mix of a cry and a shriek. Ella sighs:

"Your husband disowned him and forced you to do the same against your will, I assume?"

The woman's eyes snap up.

"Happens all the time," Ella shrugs. "Your family is not the only case I've heard of. Well, I think Severus is home."

As soon as she finishes her words, Severus appears and freezes at the living room's door.

"Hi, Sev," Ella glances up at him. "Mrs Malfoy wishes to see you."

"To what do I owe this honour, Narcissa?," he asks, his voice low and rough.

"Severus," the woman rises and approaches him, "please, let me see Draco. Please, Severus!"

With a cold glare, Severus calmly takes off his cloak:

"I'm afraid I'm not holding that power. No do you hold the right to demand it."

"Please, Severus!," she cries. "He forced me! You know I would never… ever…"

"What did he do to force you into it, Narcissa?," Severus barks. "What could have been able to rid you of your motherhood had you not given it up yourself?"

The woman drops her head and trembles in her sobs.

"You let your son be thrown out of the door and become an orphan, right under your watch. If you were not strong enough to protect him as you wished, well perhaps we can say he is in better hands now."

"Sev!," Ella whispers, tugging his sleeve. He shoots her a glare sideways.

A long silence goes by, the only sounds heard are the woman's sobs. Severus has settled in the couch, with Ella on his side. He props his cheek on his fist:

"How did you learn that he was here, Narcissa?"

"Kit," she answers in tears. "I have been sending seekers everywhere. Then I met Kit. He let me know."

"Under Veritaserum, I assume?," he sneers.

Narcissa raises her gaze to meet his, in silence.

"I'm sorry, Narcissa, but Draco is not in our custody and neither is he in yours, so I'm afraid none of us have any business discussing his whereabouts here."

"Severus!"

Ella almost jumps in surprise. The woman has thrown herself to her knees, begging at Severus' feet.

"I beg you, please… I'll do anything… Please let me know where Draco is… Severus… I beg you…"

"And what are you going to do after I let you know?"

"I just want to know… I just need to know…"

"Then it should suffice to know that he is now in the care of a guardian, safe and well and will receive the education he needs. That's all, Narcissa. I don't see why you need to know more."

Ella tugs his sleeve again. He sighs and wraps his arm around her back.

"Are you in contact with him, Severus?," the woman asks without looking up.

"What if I am and what if I'm not?"

"Could you please pass my letter to him? Please, I'll never forget your favour…"

Frowning at her, Severus sighs again. Then he says:

"You are free to leave it here. I'll ask him and his guardian's opinion as to whether they wish to receive it."

"Thank you, Severus!," the woman rises and cheers. "Thank you! I'll have it brought to you shortly!"

"Very well."

Without further pleasantries, the woman strides out of the room and to the door. Ella calls after her:

"And how can we reply to you, Mrs Malfoy?"

Glancing over her shoulder, she answers:

"I'll send you words together with the letter."

And she disappears. The next moment, Severus swiftly turns to Ella:

"Are you all right? Did anything happen before I got home?"

"I'm fine," Ella blinks, "Why? Nothing happened except she came and wanted to see you."

Letting out a sigh of relief, he looks her in the eyes:

"You opened the door for her?"

"Well," Ella shrugs. "apparently…"

"You shouldn't have done that, love," he groans and hugs her close. "She could have hurt you."

For some reason, that hits Ella with overwhelming sadness. She slides down the couch, lying on her side with her head on his lap.

"She looks desperate," she murmurs.

"Did you recognise her?"

"Of course I did."

"Then why on earth would you let her in?," he barks under his breath. "She is one of those witches who regard you and people like you as the scum of the earth, Ella. When circumstance allows she might very well conveniently hang you to rid the wizarding world of defective breeds!"

"But she didn't hurt me, you see…"

"No, not in my house. She didn't want to go on a suicide mission yet. The point still stands, however…"

"I could be in conflict with her on another day. Today she was a mother desperately searching for her son…"

"… whom she had disowned earlier."

"She was forced to do it," Ella murmurs extra softly.

"If I raise my wand at you and tell you to hurt Harry, will you comply?"

Ella sighs loudly.

"Exactly. No," says Severus.

"Okay, maybe she should have stood up to her husband, which she didn't… But still, she was worried to death about Draco…"

"Yes but that is not a good reason to put yourself at risk trying to comfort her."

Ella absently reaches the quilt with her toes and pulls it over herself. The silver knife falls loose from her pocket and drops to the floor.

"Hmm," Severus peers at her, "did that knife have a role to play in the story?"

"I just kept it in my pocket in case something happened," she flushes.

"To peel an apple and share it with her in case she was mean to you?"

Ella burst into laughter:

"That's a very nasty remark, Sev! But so hilarious!"

Chuckling, he bends forward to pick up the knife. His other hand gently rubs her waist:

"Don't do that again, love. A desperate mother can always wait at the door. Had said desperate mother decided to harm you, it couldn't have been reversed."

"I'm sorry," Ella murmurs.

"I didn't mean to criticise you. I only wanted to point out the risk."

"Uh huh…"

"Looks like Tristan is calling."

Ella tilts her head backwards to look to the fireplace's direction. The mirror on the mantle is flashing.


	5. Chapter 5 - Unexpected guests

**_Author's note_**

_Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoy the story. Your reviews are welcomed and cherished, always ;)_

CHAPTER 5

**UNEXPECTED GUESTS**

Severus gently pushes the door open and enters his bedroom.

The lights are still on but Ella is already asleep. She is lying on her side, slightly curled up, half of her face buried in the soft mattress. The blanket is hanging at her waist.

As quietly as possible, he turns off the lights and slides into bed.

Ella has a secret talent. She is able to detect his smell, or so he guesses, and roll into her familiar spot in his arm even when she is fast asleep. And she always fits in that spot flawlessly. He pulls the blanket over them both, tucks her in and lays a kiss on her forehead before digging his nose into her hair.

In such a convenient position, he is so very tempted to rub her back, moving his hand up and down her spine and feeling her softening and melting in his embrace. She used to enjoy it very much, and so did he. But things have changed.

She has been working hard to recover from the trauma of her kidnap. Now she less often freezes in terror at the slightest sounds or sensations behind her back. For a few times she has managed to let him rub along her spine without panicking. But him doing it when she is off guard would still highly likely to wake her up with a scream.

Sighing, Severus tightens his arm around her form, which has eventually regained its healthy amount of flesh and fat. It still pains him to recall how damaged she was that day when they found her.

She is a strong, fearless woman whom you would hesitate to get into an intellectual debate with unless you yourself are armed with a matching amount of knowledge and insights. It was hard to believe the cheerful professor who loved to engage in all sorts of childish conversations with her teenage students and give them a lot of sweets from her seemingly unlimited stock is the same scholar and activist who covers an entire column of a high ranking international academic journal. She is a diamond in many ways, but fate just has to brutally toss her into the wizarding world with a muted magic core. In this world of the wand wavers, she is left impaired, fragile, and sometimes hated. People like her either exist like shadows, like unwanted burdens in the margin of the society or succeed and excel and provoke jealousy and, consequently, attacks.

Yet somehow she is still magically able to open the door of her heart to almost everyone. Prejudices and discrimination don't seem to exist at all in her dictionary. That is not always good for her health, but perhaps she can't help it. She does love him, after all.

She does love him, and she did throw herself into his arms the moment he said he loved her. Everyone sees her laughing and smiling, but he has been the one who gets to wipe her tears behind closed doors. He has also been the one who struggles to wake her up every morning while she grumpily protests, most of the time in Finnish.

A series of cough bursts out in the attic and echos through the whole house, causing Severus to frown with annoyance. Those coughs come from a man whom he has no desire whatsoever to meet, but who appeared at his door this morning, citing "paying a visit" as his reason, as if they had been on friendly terms. But for his mother, who accompanied him, and the ever compulsive hospitality of Ella, he would have simply asked the man to leave and shut the door. Or more likely, slammed it.

A less severe version of the scenario thus took place instead. He let his parents in, and after a very quick unwilling exchange, he disappeared into his laboratory, letting Ella and Harry keep their company. They seemed interested in each other anyway, and the best thing you can entrust in the hands of Ella Virtanen is people. Give her any existing human beings and she will make it turn out well as long as they don't kill her first.

Until this morning, Ella had known little about his parents apart from the vague idea that they managed to turn his childhood into a living hell. With that little piece of information, she still handled the situation well. She brought his lunch and dinner into the laboratory and left them there for him with a kiss on his cheek, saying absolutely nothing about how his parents were doing out there. He knew, nonetheless, that things were going as they should because she was alive and smiling.

He did however expect a bedtime conversation with her on the topic, but he was too consumed by his work and she had dozed off before he was out of the laboratory. So had everyone else in the house.

Soothed by the familiar fragrance of her hair, he contemplates on what trick to use to wake her up tomorrow and slowly falls asleep in the process.

The trick turns out not called for. The next morning, he wakes up and finds himself alone in bed.

Panicked, he half walks, half runs down the stairs. Someone is in the kitchen. The moment he registers the careless bun of shiny blonde hair through the open door, he lets out a loud sigh, expelling nearly all the air that exists within him.

Hearing that, Ella peeks out, her features stretch into a grin.

"You scared me," says Severus. "Since when have you been getting up before me and by yourself?"

"Well," Ella shrugs, the grin staying where it is, "I came down to make breakfast in case your parents are up early. People their age tend to do that. But they are still sleeping, I assume. Toast or porridge?"

"Both", Severus sighs. "And next time leave me a note."

"Come on," Ella laughs out loud. "Who could have stolen me from your arm in your bedroom? Don't be paranoid. And I do get up by myself sometimes."

Without a reply, Severus retreats to the bathroom, hiding a yawn in his palm. He hopes against hopes that his parents will not show up too soon and ruin his breakfast with Ella. His wish is granted. Ella and he manage to finish their breakfast on their own, in peace. By which time, however, Ella suddenly pulls her chair close to his, looks him in the eyes and asks importantly:

"Sev?"

"What?," he absently sips his tea.

"Did you know about Tobias' illness?"

Severus frowns:

"Illness?"

"He has liver cancer. Did you know?"

Severus almost drops his cup, a deep frown formed on his forehead and his brain paralysed.

"Looks like you didn't," says Ella.

"No," says Severus, his voice barely audible, "I didn't."

Looking over her shoulder to make sure no one is trotting down the stairs, Ella continues softly:

"He has come because he wanted to see you again before… you know…"

Severus stays silence, his frown growing deeper and deeper.

"… before it becomes too bad for him to manage a visit," Ella sighs. "He didn't intend to tell you about it. He was afraid you'd think he is here to expect your help. He just wanted to see you and how you are living and kind of… you know, hear your voice again and stuffs like that, even if you ignore him. He was glad to see you and know you are fine and that's all he wanted. He planned to leave today. And I believe I should let you know."

"Indeed," replies Severus, his entire being freezing in tension. "All those bottles he consumed. Serves him well now," he grinds his teeth.

Ella blinks at him, her gaze loaded with sadness:

"St Mungo hospital couldn't help him because he is a full muggle and the law doesn't allow him to be admitted there."

"Stupid law," Severus grinds his teeth more tightly. "But that serves him well too. He destroyed my mother's potion lab. Turned the entire facility into a mess of broken glass and rotten ingredients. He hated magic."

"Was it the lab you are using today?"

"Yes. But I had to reconstruct almost everything several years later."

"I see," Ella sighs. "What do you think? How can we help him?"

Silence endures when Severus looks her in the eyes, at loss of words. She is just being who she is. But this time, it is Tobias. It is his father.

Shortly after the fall of the Dark Lord and Severus had barely escaped a sentence in Azkaban, his parents decided to move away from this neighbourhood to help his father curb his alcoholism, the alcoholism he had spent his entire childhood suffering from. He agreed to inherit this house from them only so that every summer he can return to this neighbourhood, where his memories with Lily are forever preserved. It was pure accident that Harry came along, and now Ella, and the house ended up hosting a new family…

His mother, who was too busy taking care of her husband to properly take care of her son the whole time he was growing up, did visit him a few times during those summers, but she never brought his father along and that was how she got invited in and not asked to go away. She did bring back words about Harry, apparently, because this time the old couple showed up with a new bicycle as a gift for their adopted grandson. He tried his best not to ruin Harry's joy, but his inner child was kicking and screaming with fury.

Slow, weary footsteps are coming down the stairs. Severus almost leaps up from his chair:

"I'll be in the lab. Please ask them to stay for lunch."

"Will you be out for lunch?," asks Ella.

"Yes. Let me know when it's ready. Thank you, love," he gives her a quick hug before rushing to the laboratory's door, racing with his parents' approaching footsteps.

Unlike yesterday, he does not put up a charm to prevent the sounds in the kitchen from entering his laboratory. He lets them come and mix with the sounds of his equipments hitting each other and his potions simmering in the cauldrons. There are four people in his kitchen. FOUR. Such an unprecedented number of people sitting together and talking under his roof. They even sound happy. The world is going totally wrong.

His brewing reaches the expected stage barely in time before Ella knocks to inform him that it is lunchtime. Taking a deep breath, he puts off his work clothes and turns to leave the laboratory, only to find her blocking the door.

"What are you doing?," he asks.

"One minute," she says, steps in completely and closes the door behind her. Coming close to him, she throws her arms around his waist and looks him in the eyes: "Are you comfortable with this, love?"

"I am generally comfortable with you hugging me and I will inform you when that changes," he answers with a straight face.

"Good to know," Ella giggles. "You know what I mean. Are you willing to sit down and have the meal with your parents? Well, I know you are willing to, but by the look of it I suppose it won't be easy. Can I do anything to help?"

"Yes," says Severus with a soft smile. "Be there and be yourself. That can solve all problems."

"Too easy," she grins and slightly flushes when he steals a kiss on her cheek, even though he has done that every day this whole summer.

It is easy, indeed, because the other four people help themselves with all the talking and leaves Severus alone. There is absolutely no surprise in seeing Ella already being his mother's friend, along with Harry. As for his father, he doesn't even want to look at him. The sight of Tobias Snape brings back too many unpleasant memories.

But you have to do it, he chants inwardly. After a long struggle, he finally manages to steal a look, hoping for it to go unnoticed.

His father indeed does not look much different. Perhaps it only makes sense that his ill older self largely resembles his young alcoholic self. He is pale and weary, as always. If anything has changed, it is the lack of anger and aggression Severus was all too familiar with. He snorts inwardly. People do tend to become less aggressive as they grow weaker and less capable of hurting others and more likely to bring trouble upon themselves with their aggression. It hardly counts as improvement.

As soon as the meal is done, Tobias timidly speaks up, his eyes sticking to the table:

"Thank you for the stay, I think it's time Eileen and I leave…"

"What's your hurry?," Severus asks coldly from the other side of the table. "We need to talk. Harry, why don't you go to your room or go outside and play?"

Seeing the look on his face, Harry obeys immediately. Once the boy has left, for the first time after more than a decade, Severus looks his father straight in the eyes. He feels a perverted, twisted note of joy inside himself when he registers that bit of terror in the old man's expression. He has lived most of his life haunted by this scene, the other way around.

Tobias' look of terror gets worse when Severus casually pulls out his wand, even though he only places a Silence Charm to soundproof the room before tucking it back in his sleeve. He enjoys the little torture nevertheless, ignoring the voice from the back of his mind telling him not to. Ella would hate him for this.

"What did the muggles say about your cancer? Yes, Ella told me, and for your information, I happen to be interested."

Dumbstruck by surprise and Merlin knows what else, Tobias fails to form a response for several seconds. At last, Eileen, his wife, rescues him:

"They said it cannot be easily cured but the symptoms can be managed with changes in lifestyle and some supportive medication."

"In other words, no hope," Severus concludes, earning himself a sleeve tug from Ella, which he ignores. "I assume you have tried to help?," he eyes his mother.

"I have been," she answers quietly and gives Tobias a sad gaze. They seem to have accepted it, which looks almost painful.

"Unsuccessfully," Severus adds.

"Yes," Eileen sighs.

"This afternoon, a healer is coming here for an appointment with Ella. He happens to be quite a resourceful one and he also happens to be my former student. I have contacted him to ask if he could have a look at your condition. He agreed. Therefore I do suggest that you stay until then and let him see if something can be done about it."

"But they said wizard healers are not allowed to work with muggles," says Tobias anxiously. The word "muggle" escaping his very mouth brings a sneer to his son's face.

"True," says Severus. "He is not allowed to officially heal you as an healer. He is however not prohibited from casually checking you up and talking to me about it in a private conversation. As long as no papers are signed and no names are referred to, it is perfectly legal."

Tobias and Eileen Snape eye each other and then their son, whose expression remains stone cold.

"Well? I take it as a yes then? I will be in the lab. See you in a few hours."

With that he rises and quickly disappears, leaving his parents dumbstruck and his girlfriend smiling.


	6. Chapter 6 - When the genes clash

**_Author's note_**

_Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoy the story. Your reviews are welcomed and cherished, always ;)_

CHAPTER 6

**WHEN THE GENES CLASH**

"All are well. I believe you are ready for the new school year."

Smiling, Healer Erius Hazel quickly scribes his signature on Ella's medical record and hands it over to her. She does not even bother to look at it. She is seriously sick of seeing medical records bearing her name. There have been too many of them, everywhere, her whole life.

"There is one question that remains unanswered, however," says Erius.

"What question?," asks Severus, a frown formed on his forehead.

Erius rights himself in the armchair and looks at Ella importantly:

"I have been thinking of the inner muscular damage. It is unclear what had caused it, given all what we know about what had happened. It could not have come from the Cruciatus Curse or the beatings. And as you have recalled, the symptoms appeared for the first time when you woke up in the hospital. That is strange."

"You have not mentioned this before," says Ella.

"That is because we have had more important issues to deal with, but also because I have been doing my own research trying to figure it out. The only possibility I have vaguely come up with thus far is some sort of unconscious defensive reaction of your magic core – which is next to impossible given that it is muted. This phenomenon has never been recorded, at least not in the literature I have got my hands on. The good news is you are fine now and we don't have to worry about too much it in the practical sense. I am still concerned, however. It might point to other problems with your health in a way we can yet to comprehend."

Ella and Severus eye each other. Erius shifts his eyes to one side, thinking. After a short while, he continues:

"May I ask, Miss Virtanen, when and how did you find out your magic core is muted? I apologise if it is a question I shouldn't have asked, but as I said…"

"It's fine, Erius," Ella smiles. "I found out when I was seven. I was supposed to start my magical education at that age. But things didn't go as they should and after several rounds of medical examinations, it was officially concluded that I am a wizard-born muggle."

"Seven?," Erius raises an eyebrow. "That was quite early."

"That's how it works in Finland. I was re-examined yearly though, until I turned thirteen. From then the situation was seen as fixed and my fate sealed."

"I see," says Erius, studying Ella closely. "So there has been no accidental magic whatsoever? Can you recall anything slightly unexplainable?"

"Well…," Ella pauses to think. "I believe not. All those years my parents and I were hoping against hopes to see it, it could not have gone unnoticed if it had happened."

"I see. How about… uh… May I ask about your kin, Miss Virtanen?"

"You may, Erius, I don't mind."

"This is quite a wild theory, but… do your family keep genealogy records?"

"No, most Finnish wizard families don't."

"Is there then any way to figure out the distance between you and the first wizard or witch who magically established your lineage, from both your paternal and maternal sides?"

"Well, that sounds quite impossible…"

"But why, Erius?," asks Severus. "This seems to be running deeper than I could imagine."

"It certainly does, sir," says the healer. "It is a wild theory I came across while seeking the answer to this question. If it rings true… well, then we are witnessing a rare condition that manifests perhaps once in a thousand years."

Severus raises an eyebrow expectantly. Erius continues:

"There is this natural law that the first born in the tree hundred and ninety-fourth generation of a wizard line is destined to be either a Mage or a sq… a wizard-born muggle, the later being the more common case. In an extremely unlikely coincidence, a person could be that first born in both his or her paternal and maternal lines, with the genes from one line making him of her a wizard-born muggle and those from the other line making him or her a Mage… When these mechanisms clash, they can cause serious disturbances in the person's magic core. He or she will highly likely suffer some kind of magical instability or impairment along with other health issues."

"Health issues?," Ella frowns. "What kind of health issues?"

"It can be anything," says Erius. "But these disturbances are chronic, so the sign to look for would be chronic conditions or at best the very frequent need for medical attention and remedies."

"That sounds too much like me for my liking," Ella sighs.

Erius briefly pauses and then asks:

"You mean… you indeed feel like it could be your condition?"

"Well…," Ella shrugs, "as you have known, the reason we asked you to come over is because I don't like hospitals. I was ill in one way or another for almost half of my childhood. I have been getting by a little better in my adulthood thanks to sheer stubbornness and a lot of medication, both wizarding and muggle. That said, now where is this information leading us to?"

"At the moment it is leaving me in sheer amazement."

The healer fixes his gaze on Ella, dumbstruck. In the several silent moments that follow, she slowly puts together the details and realises… Holy Väinämöinen, she could have been a Mage? In fact, she is kind of a half Mage? A distorted Mage?

"I am sorry," Erius finally breaks the silence. "As I said, it is a very rare case and I was just being impressed in the occupational sense…"

"You certainly have not changed much, Mr Hazel," Severus smirks. "But I understand, it is indeed a rare case. Now could this knowledge be helpful in anyway, for instance to reduce the disturbances and improve her overall health?"

"I believe it can be, but an exhaustive case study will be needed. In other words, if we want to go anywhere beyond symptom management, as what you have been doing all your life, we will have to devise a research project in which you are the subject of study."

Ella rounds her eyes:

"That sounds very significant."

"It is, Miss Virtanen. I understand however that most people would not like to be part of such a study. Especially if they hold a particular dislike towards hospitals."

"How helpful will the outcome be?," asks Ella. "Will it worth the time and effort?"

"Certainly it will. At the very least, we might be able to permanently stabilise some aspects of your health. Furthermore, the wizarding healing arts will be much better prepared for the next case of your kind. And at best, I dare to dream to set the first stone to pave the way to healing muted magic cores altogether."

"If I agree to subject myself to said study," says Ella, "how much time and effort will be required?"

The healer falls silent once more. At last, he says:

"That I will have to think of. But does this mean that you would indeed agree to…?"

"If it will be that helpful to many others, there is no reason why I wouldn't, Erius. Please just let me know when you have had the specific plan."

"You have a good heart, Miss Virtanen."

That strikes Ella. She only wishes for a hole in the ground where she could just slide in and disappear.

"Very well," says Erius, "I will keep you informed. I think that is all we have for Miss Virtanen today, Professor. How about Mr Snape senior?"

"I will go fetch him," says Ella.

She rises to leave the living room and walks to the kitchen, where Severus' parents are waiting. The amount of hope pounding in their eyes almost pains her.

"We are done," she says. "Now the healer is waiting for you."

She steps aside to make way for the old couple. She cannot help seeing Severus and herself in their image. After all, Severus is indeed a carbon copy of his father.

They are all present in the living room to witness the examination of Tobias. It is a long, very long and quiet one.

Erius Hazel is a fine young wizard. As a student in the House of Slytherin, he was told by Severus that he would not qualify for even a cleaning job in an apothecary given his unforgivable clumsiness around potions and equipments. He responded by doing his best to prove his Head of House wrong and in the end, it was Severus who gave him private tutorials to get him into the Healing Academy. And that is how today they get to have a leading healer in the field of rare maladies and conditions pay them home visits. That, however, does not excuse Severus' student abuse, in Ella's opinion. It is just that she will talk to him about it on another day, once she has gathered enough courage and wisdom.

Erius tucks his wand back in his sleeve and pulls out his quill and another piece of parchment from his briefcase.

"It will take a while," he says, "but with the right potion, you should be fine after a year at most."

"I will be fine?," Tobias rounds his eyes. "You mean…"

"Yes, I mean the cancer will go away completely, sir," Erius smiles brightly. "However, I must emphasise the importance of taking the potion strictly as instructed. It will not work well if you reduce or skip your doses."

The old couple's gasps can clearly be heard. Unconsciously, Ella places her hand on Eileen's and gently squeezes it. Erius turns to Severus:

"I'm afraid you will have to brew it yourself, Professor. You won't be able to buy it without an official prescription. But to my understanding that only means Mr Snape will have the best version possible of it."

"Spare me the flattery, Mr Hazel. And kindly scribe the recipe in better quillmanship than what you gave me in school."

"My best I will do, sir," the healer grins, his head tilted downwards as his quill runs on the piece of parchment. "And this require some fresh blood from either Mr Snape's father or one of his children. I hope it is fine for you, which I assume it is…"

That immediately brings terror to Tobias' face. His son, on the other hand, casually asks:

"Will I have to extract more than half of my blood at once and die?"

"No, sir, but one standard size vial per month, continuously for a year."

"Fair enough then."

Tobias freezes in his seat for the rest of the time, well until everything is done with and Erius has left. Then, with his weary and shaky voice, he ineloquently asks Severus for a talk between themselves in the living room. Severus is about to let out his cold "no" when Ella tugs his sleeve and gives him the most persuasive eyes she is capable of. Grudgingly, he enters the room and closes the door behind himself. Ella quietly holds Eileen's hand and walks with her to the kitchen.

Half a cup of calming tea later, the old witch suddenly decides to look her in the eye and softly smiles, warmer and brighter than usual:

"I am so happy to see Severus and you together, Ella. He is blessed to have you."

For the second time in the same afternoon, Ella wishes in vain for a rabbit hole to instantly open under her feet.

"He listens to you," Eileen continues. "I have never imagined he would one day listen to someone that much."

The rabbit hole wish remains as Ella still has absolutely no idea how to respond to that. Thankfully, to her rescue, Tobias appears at the door. Severus, however, does not.

Instead, he shuts himself in his laboratory for the rest of the day. Ella manages the dinner, sees his parents to bed, tucks Harry in and retreats to their own bedroom. Only then does he show up, get his nightwear and go to the bathroom.

Once he is back, he immediately climbs in bed and holds Ella tightly. Unlike the normal days, he sinks into her rather than the other way around.

"What is it, love?," asks Ella, wrapping her arms around him and rubbing his back.

"Dim the lights, please," he whispers, his voice unusually soft and shaky.

Ella does as he wishes. As soon as the lights go out and darkness falls upon them, a warm, small stream of liquid runs across his face and drops on Ella's shoulder.


	7. Chapter 7 - The Quidditch World Cup

**_Author's note_**

_Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoy the story. Your reviews are welcomed and cherished, always ;)_

CHAPTER 7

**THE QUIDDITCH WORLD CUP**

"Thank you for bringing our children along with you," says Arthur Weasley. "They were so disappointed when I said I couldn't go to the match. I hope they won't bother you too much."

Arthur and his wife, Molly Weasley, are sitting in the kitchen of Number 4 Spinner's End and chatting over a cup of tea with the hosts. They have just brought their five children and one of their friends, Hermione Granger, to join the trip to the Quidditch World Cup's final match with Harry. Mr Weasley had obtained tickets for all of them and himself but a last minute errand prevents him from going. When the Weasley children wrote to Harry to complain about it and they all dwelt in unspeakable disappointment, Ella and Severus decided (actually, Ella decided and Severus complied) to bring them along since they are also bringing Harry to the match. Their parents had hesitated at first, until Ella pointed out that she and Severus have regularly taken students out on field trips and a group of seven teenagers is something they can handle.

"I trust they won't, Mr Weasley," replies Ella. "They were very well behaved on field trips. I don't think there would be any significant difference today."

Molly Weasley blinks at Ella with a note of disbelief:

"I'm so glad to hear it, Professor Virtanen. Frankly speaking, I am worried about Fred and George the most. They usually don't handle rules very well."

"But you see," says Arthur, "I have never heard them talking about a professor the way they talked about Professor Virtanen. They seem to listen to her opinions, which they don't usually do to those of other adults. I believe they will behave if she tells them to. You are such a special teacher to them, Professor."

Ella tries her best to tuck away the fact that it is probably because she very much enjoyed discussing with the twins about their inventions of mischievous toys that are several times more fun (and nasty) than those found in Hogsmeade and that their parents most likely wouldn't want to know of. She can't blame herself though. They were brilliant inventions.

"Fred and George are extraordinarily curious and creative," she says. "I believe they will excel in whatever they decide to apply themselves to. They are just not the conformist type of kids, and not all kids are anyway."

"Well, what I am concerned about is that they might decide to apply themselves to the wrong cause, Professor," says Molly, failing to hide maternal pride from her expression nonetheless.

"I trust they won't, Mrs Weasley," says Ella. "They might be unconventional, but they know right from wrong. You have raised them well."

Now the mother indeed has her ears turn pink and the father eyes her with a smile.

"I think it's time we should leave," says Arthur. "Thank you again, Professor Snape and Professor Virtanen."

"Not at all, Mr Weasley," says Severus. "We will return them to you once we are home tomorrow morning."

"Very well, thank you."

Severus and Ella see the Weasley parents to the living room's fireplace, where they then leave by Floo. The room is then almost empty but for Percy, the serious and oftentimes quiet boy, who is sitting in a corner reading something. By the sound of it, the rest of the children seem to be messing around in Harry's room.

"How are you, Percy?," asks Ella. "Do you need something?"

Dumbstruck for a moment, he shyly replies:

"No, Professor."

"Good," Ella smiles. "If you need something at some point, I'm in the kitchen."

"Thank you, Professor."

"I'll prepare lunch," she turns to Severus. "I suggest you go and check if we have everything we need for tonight."

"I intended to do so," says Severus. "But do you want help in the kitchen first?"

"I'm good. Go ahead. I'll ask you if I need help later on."

With that, she quickly grabs Severus' sleeve and pulls him out of the room. Then she whispers in his ears:

"I suggest you ask Percy if he wants to help you. He seems bored and lonely."

Silently glancing downward at her for a second, he whispers back:

"I will. Why do you always notice everything about everyone?"

"It's my magic," she answers with a straight face and elicits an amused smirk from him.

They both get down to their tasks. From the kitchen, Ella hears Percy following Severus upstairs and cannot help wondering if he has indeed been nicely asked to do so or actually scared into doing so. For a moment she has forgot that Severus is Snape.

Shortly later, the smell of food smoking on the stove summons all the children downstairs without a word said. Harry peeks in at the kitchen's door:

"Do you need help, Ella?"

"Hungry, are you? Come lay the table. Food is ready."

Though she does not have a third eye at the back of her head, she still somehow sees the boy grinning. Soon the kitchen are filled with a little crowd, among whom is an excessive amount of red heads. Ella turns off the stove.

"Someone please transfer this to a plate and bring it to the table. Harry, go inform Severus and Percy that lunch is ready. They are in the attic, I assume."

Then she turns around and fixes her gaze precisely where it is meant to be:

"Fred and George, a word with you."

The twins eye each other. Without another word, she makes her way to the living room, and they follow her.

"Close the door," she says. "Have any idea what I am going to talk about?"

The twins eye each other again and look as though they would shrug, but refrain from doing so.

"Unless you are fighting a war or investigate a crime," she crosses her arms in front of her chest, "eavesdropping is never a good idea."

Their eyes open wide in surprise. Then one of them murmurs:

"We heard our names."

"I guessed so," says Ella. "But that does not justify eavesdropping a conversation not addressed to you."

"We were only curious…"

"I trust you do realise that I have always supported your curious ventures. This time, however, I am giving my explicit disapproval. There is a fine line between challenging the limits and doing the wrong thing. I know don't want to let yourselves fall into the latter, and nor do I."

After a brief pause, they say in chorus:

"We are sorry, Professor."

"I'm glad you are. What's more important though is whether I have convinced you not to repeat this?"

"Yes, Professor. We understand."

"Good," Ella smiles. "I kept quiet while your parents were here because I didn't want to ruin your day, but rest assured that next time I won't let it slip this easily. That being said, I do hope there will never be a next time."

"No, Professor. There won't be."

"I trust you, boys."

That brings a calm and mature smile to their identical faces. One of them blinks mischievously:

"On a scale from one to ten, how disappointed are you at us, Professor?"

"Five, I would say," Ella shrugs amusedly. "It would be ten if there were a next time, but there apparently won't be. Lunch, then?"

Without further delay, she leads the boys back to the kitchen and is surprised to find Severus there, at the table with the rest of the teens. She expected him to have disappeared into his laboratory as usual, but today he didn't. As a result, the kitchen is so quiet one would hear the sound of a fly passing by. She chuckles inwardly and takes her seat on his side.

"Sorry we let you wait. Enjoy your meal, everyone."

The sound of cutleries brought to work fills the room. Only a few minutes later, the children forget about the Potions Master. They are occupied with their discussion of the Quidditch World Cup. No amount of Snape can override that excitement.

After lunch, they are all set to go. The closet portkey that will being them to the venue is hidden in a bush at the neighbourhood's playground, which has long been abandoned and now covered in grass. As usual, no one other than themselves can be seen around the place. Without much obstacles, they all gather inside the bush, around an old and deformed car tyre. Observing the watch on her wrist, Ella softly says:

"One minute. Thirty seconds. Hold it tightly, everyone… Three… Two… One… Ow!"

They are all tugged into the unpleasant-as-always portkey trip. At the other end, Severus somehow manages to appear neatly in a low lunge. Ella is tossed outward by the force but with a skilful roll, she quickly lands on one knee and the other heel. The children, however, do not end so well.

"For Merlin's sake," Ella sighs loudly, "what have you all done with the portkey training?"

"Er… it's the summer's fault, I guess…," says Harry, clumsily picking up himself.

"Welcome to the teachers' world," says Severus.

"This was not in the job description," Ella sighs.

At first only Harry, Fred and George dare to giggle, with a lot of effort to hold it back however, but soon all the children lose it. The giggles quickly grow into laughter as they realise Professor Snape is not giving out detentions for giggling and laughing in his presence. Not today.

"Collect yourself, ladies and gentlemen," says Ella. "Anything dropped on the ground?"

Still breathing unevenly from the laughs, they check around themselves and strike dust and leaves off their clothes and hair.

"Ready?"

"Yes," they answer in chorus.

"Let's go then."

Severus turns on his heel to lead the way. Ella casually holds his arm and walks on his side. They are all carrying camping equipments on their back for camouflage. It is beyond her as to why the Ministry would choose a muggle campsite for the event. Not that she has any better ideas how it should be done instead.

Soon they arrive at the campsite and are guided to their slot by the muggle site manager who has apparently had his memory modified several times recently. Ella sightly frowns at that and makes a mental note to check this practice of the Ministry against the International Convention of Muggles' Rights once they are home.

After covertly charming their slot muggle repelling, Severus raises his wand at the heap of camping equipment on the ground. Harry tugs at his sleeve:

"Dad, can we do it? Please?"

"I don't fancy going to Azkaban just yet, Mr Potter," he looks sideways at his son.

"Oh."

"Oh indeed. You are making it sound like I let you use magic at home frequently while we are standing among an army of the Ministry's officials. Well played, Mr Potter."

"I'm sorry," Harry drops his eyes, all the joy disappearing from his face.

"I'm not mad at you," says Severus. "Just pointing it out. Now step back."

Harry retreats, followed by all the others except Severus. Ella watches him passionately. His wand movements always look so gentle, so smooth, so artful, no matter which spells or charms are being cast. She is deeply in love with them. Them and the rest of him that is.

The bags slowly unload themselves and their contents then arrange themselves until two tents rise from the ground, high and secured. He tucks the wand back in his sleeve:

"Boys on the left with me, girls on the right with Professor Virtanen. There are beds for everyone."

The girls immediately run into their tents while the Weasley boys quietly steal looks at Severus and earn themselves a glare. Faking a grin, Harry pulls them on their way. As soon as they turn their backs at the two adults, Ella steals a kiss on Severus' cheek.

"Do you indeed want to become a subject of rumour for an entire term at least?," he murmurs, looking sideways at her.

"Who cares?," Ella grins. "It's family time. It's not as though they wouldn't kiss their first loves on campus."

"We are professors."

"Which means we are allowed to kiss in public."

"Why do I even love you?," he sighs with amusement.

"For the love of Merlin, don't be overly strict today, will you?"

"I don't intend to."

"Oh. There must be a typhoon coming," Ella giggles.

"Tristan?"

Severus frowns, eyeing the slot next to theirs. Ella looks over her shoulder. Two people have just arrived and she knows them.

"Tristan? Draco?," she rounds her eyes. "I thought your slot were on the other side?"

"The manager messed up the numbers a little bit," says Tristan, letting out a loud exhale as he tosses the camping rucksack off his back. "Seems like we are destined to be neighbours today. How are you, Severus?"

Without delay, he approaches Severus with an open arm and delivers a greeting hug, which freezes the receiver on the spot. Ella laughs inwardly. He should thank his lucky stars that it is a hug and not French kisses.

"I… am… good," says Severus awkwardly. "How are you?"

"I've been great," Tristan grins and turns to Ella with the same hug. "And you? Looks like you are back to yourself now."

"As fit as a fiddle," says Ella, returning the hug. Then she quickly walks towards the blond boy standing a few steps from them and pulls him into another hug. "How are you, Draco? You look good."

"I'm fine, Professor," says the boy with a smile. A smile, a true smile, the like of which she has never seen on his face. It almost brings tears to her eyes. "And you?," he asks.

"I'm fine too. Great to see you again."

Severus has arrived on their side unnoticed. He gently caresses the boy's hair with his hand:

"How is everything?"

"Everything is fine," says Draco.

"I'm glad to hear that."

Pulling out his wand, Tristan murmurs:

"The arrangements here are a bit weird, I have to say."

Then he mutters some incantations under his breath and waves his wand, at which point Ella realises why she loves Severus' wand movements so much. It is because for more than ten years past, she has been watching this clumsy wizard doing magic. If you fail a debate with him in court or in a conference hall, then challenge him to a magic combat. It will be sweet revenge.

His tent assembles itself in a manner consistent with his awkward wand waving. Leaning against Severus' side, Ella asks absently:

"Is it legitimate to modify a muggle's memory so intensively?"

"No idea," says Tristan without looking at her. "And no more legal questions today. This is the Quidditch World Cup final, you know. I'm supposed to be having fun."


	8. Chapter 8 - At campsite

**_Author's note_**

_Thank you for dropping by. I hope you enjoy the story. Your reviews are welcomed and cherished, always ;)_

CHAPTER 8

**AT CAMPSITE**

The campsite is lined with rows and rows of tents in all shapes and sizes and crowded with people. Several officials from the Ministry of Magic are walking, running and apparating here and there trying to maintain order among a crowd who seem quite eager to break it.

Resting her hands on Severus' shoulder, fingers interlocked, Ella smiles as she dreamily watches toddlers following their parents around and amusing themselves with virtually anything they find along the way. Tender joy simmers in her veins and melts her. She gradually shifts all her weight to the support of her man, who is chatting with Tristan and Draco.

The chat suddenly ceases, tears her off her dream and tosses her back on earth. One moment, she realises all eyes are going in the same direction; the next moment, it dawns on her why they are.

Only a few feet from them stand Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, who seem to have noticed them on their way through the campsite and halted their steps. Narcissa looks totally stricken while Lucius darts his eyes at them from face to face, pausing briefly at the pin on Tristan's tie.

"Monsieur le Prince?," he raises his gaze to Tristan's face and slightly tilts his head forward. "My honour, sir. I am from the Malfoy House of England."

"Pardon me but I don't think we know each other," replies Tristan coldly. "Have a good day, sir."

With that he swiftly turns around and guides Draco by his shoulder towards their tent. They stop midway, however, as Lucius' words call after them:

"Bless him. Surprising how a discarded undeserving Malfoy has made his way into the Royal House of Flandin. I hope he won't soil yet another respected name."

Tristan slowly turns back to face Lucius, his face transforming from red to purple. Even his hair looks as though its colour is turning to a fiery shade. Shifting his gaze to Ella and back at Tristan, Lucius smirks:

"It is no longer surprising, however, once I have seen what kind of people you befriend, Monsieur le Prince."

"Undeserving people indeed," says Tristan, struggling to keep his breaths even. "The kind of parents who trash their children as if they were objects are truly undeserving of any names in the humankind. They soil every inch of the earth their feet ever touch. Blessed are the children who have escaped the fate of being properties and started a new life as the cherished human beings they deserve to be."

Lucius falls into a brief pause. Then he gives Tristan a very good sneer before walking away, literally dragging his wife along. Tristan remains where he is, silent and immobile, waiting for his blood to resume its normal circulation. Behind him, Draco is pressing his lips into a thin line and holding his fists tightly, his form trembling in an enormous effort to fight back the tears that are set to escape his swollen eyes.

Ella opens her mouth but then closes it when she notices Harry over her shoulder. He is standing and gazing at Draco. A few steps from him are the Weasley twins.

"Hey," says Harry. "Hello."

Violently wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, Draco turns to Harry and bellows under his breath:

"What do you want, Potter?"

"Just wonder if you'd like a butterbeer," Harry shrugs.

"Right," says one of the twins. "Want to come over? There's space," he tilts his head backwards.

Draco glares dangerously at all the three of them, calculations visible in his eyes. The other twin casually takes a step forward:

"Heard you've saved Professor Virtanen's life. Quite some bravery there, isn't it?"

"If that's not bravery then I don't know what is," says the other twin.

Draco freezes. Though he remains silent, his features eventually relax. Meanwhile, another figure arrives at the scene. It's Hermione.

"Draco," says the girl, earning herself a nasty look, which however does not stop her. "Why don't you come over? We have butterbeer and biscuits over there."

After a long awkward silence, Hermione hesitantly stretches her hand towards Draco. Ella holds her breath.

Several seconds go by without any move from anyone. At last, one of the twins briskly scoops the blond boy and shoulder walks him towards the table the children have set up in front of their tents. Draco does not resist. The adults eye each other and exchange quiet, hopeful smiles.

The Quidditch fever escalates quickly as the evening approaches. The children passionately discuss the coming match over their butterbeer and the handful of souvenirs they have just purchased from a vendor's trolley. Harry bought three pairs of the cheap and bulky but well advertised Omnioculars for Ron, Hermione and himself despite having borrowed Ella's professional binoculars earlier.

"And that's how teenagers are the biggest consumers on the market," says Severus, looking the children over his shoulder. "Old enough to spend, young enough not to hesitate to throw money out the window."

"It's a once in a hundred years occasion, Sev," Ella grins and pats on his back.

"Says the professor who never declines any requests that come from a child."

"I do," insists Ella. "Just not all the time like you."

Tristan giggles as he opens his second bottle of butterbeer. They are having their own adults' gathering in front of Tristan's tent.

"You two fit like two pieces of puzzle. Except that usually it is the father who always says yes and the mother who always says no."

Ella can feel the heat running in her veins as blood rushes to the top of her ears. Severus is probably feeling the same, though not visibly, because he immediately drives the talk away from the topic:

"So you said Draco will be homeschooled?"

"Yeah," says Tristan. "For some reason, he seems quite at ease living on a campus full of boring serious looking professors and law students. Meanwhile, he panicked when we paid a visit to Ilvermorny. I reckon the school environment brought back his unpleasant memories. He decided that he wanted to stay and study on Harvard's campus with private tutors, so we will go for that now and see if he will change his mind at some point in the future."

"He looks fine," says Ella. "Even better than he used to be, from my view."

"By the look of it, I assume the Malfoys have completely kicked you out of their circles?," asks Tristan, looking sideways at Severus.

"They did," Severus nods. "Not surprising. I knew the day would come, sooner or later. I have seen them discarding several people over the years, even the ones they used to call their dearest friends. The moment you fail their expectations, you become a piece of trash, no more, no less."

"How about Mrs Malfoy, though?," asks Ella. "Did she always agree with her husband on those discarded relationships?"

"She did. What you saw was an exception, Ella. The only thing that makes Draco different is that he carries her genes. Other than that…"

"Monsieur le Prince!"

A soft cry interrupts their conversation, and they all look up towards where it comes from.

Narcissa Malfoy is standing facing Tristan in a humbling position, her knees bent, her head lowered. The hood of her robe is pulled over her hair, which is out of line in terms of nobility manner, but Ella suspects she wants to conceal herself as much as possible. By the look of it, she has escaped her husband's grip and rushed here to look for her son.

"Monsieur le Prince, sir!," she cries once more. "Please, may I see Draco, sir? Just a few minutes, I promise…"

Tristan rises from his seat and looks her in the eyes:

"We have made it clear to you, Mrs Malfoy, that we do not wish to be in contact with you in any shape or form."

"Sir!," Narcissa gasps loudly, "Please, sir! Please have mercy for a mother…"

"… who has disowned her son," says Tristan, his gaze turning into a glare. "It was not my decision, Mrs Malfoy, but Draco's decision, and I respect his wish. If your mind is still telling you to love your offspring, kindly leave him alone and let him enjoy being here watching Quidditch. Didn't you realise your husband's words earlier were enough torment for him already? I didn't take him here to dwell on the past, Mrs Malfoy. I took him here to have a good time. I trust you and your husband are having a good time too, seeing that being separated from your only child doesn't seem to prevent you from going to a Quidditch match."

"Please, sir!," Narcissa cries louder, almost throwing herself to her knees. That captures the children's attention. They all fall quiet and eye her from afar. Ella feels a twist in her stomach.

Tristan glances downward at the woman with disdain, though a note of empathy can be seen in his gaze. He sighs and opens his mouth, but before his words are articulated, Lucius has appeared and scooped up his wife like a rag doll.

"Disgraceful!," he bellows and instantly drags her away despite her tears and plea. Tristan sighs and shakes his head.

"I sincerely hope we won't regret coming here," he says.

"It'll be fine," says Ella. "I hope you won't be so unlucky that you'll encounter them in your box."

"They'll likely be in the prime seats," says Severus. "What are your seats?"

"Middle class," says Tristan. "Thanks my lucky stars. Honestly, what kind of parents have the spirit to go to a Quidditch match so soon after throwing their son away?"

"They probably didn't come here for recreation but for building connections. I wouldn't be surprised to find Lucius around the Minister and other important figures present here."

"I see. They destroyed the mood either way," he throws himself backs to his chair.

"Will some wine-flavoured beans help?"

Grinning, Ella passes him a handful of Berti Botts jelly beans she has just produced out of nowhere. That wipes annoyance off his face and replaces it with an amused chuckle. He pops one of the beans in his mouth.

"Honestly," says Severus, shaking his head at her, "do you literally carry sweets on your person at all time on all occasions?"

"Did she tell you it's her father's genes?," Tristan raises and eyebrow.

"We have yet to bring up that topic," answers Severus.

"Her father is exactly the same, except he carries sweets for magical creatures as well."

"He said there are no problems some good sweets can't solve," chuckles Ella, glancing at her watch. "We should get going. It's time."


End file.
